ProblemSolving the Parker Way
by Fleur27
Summary: Parker thinks she could get to like this whole camping thing, if the boys ever stopped arguing. Hopefully, Parker Hardison Eliot camping delicious banter-y goodness.


Disclaimer: I own nothing here and am just doing this for fun and to ease my new-found Leverage addiction.

A/N: Written for prompt 23 (a creek) story_lottery.

* * *

It all started innocently enough, during a team movie night, when they were watching _Carry On Camping_, which Parker had selected based solely on the title.

"Parker, what on earth possessed you to pick such rubbish?" asked Sophie when the film was over.

"I've never been camping. I was curious about what it was like."

"It ain't like that," said Eliot with a smile.

"You seriously never been camping? I lived on the South Side of Chicago my whole life, I still got sent to camp," said Hardison, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Computer camp doesn't count, Hardison," said Eliot.

"Hey, we should go camping. That would be fun, don't you think? Team-building and all of that," said Hardison, gesturing around the room.

"Yes! I'm in," said Parker.

"Count me out," said Sophie. "To me, camping is a staying in a two-star hotel."

"Yeah, you kids have fun," said Nate. "Be sure to take pictures. We're going to want to hear all about it."

Eliot sighed. "I can't in good conscious let you two go by yourselves. I guess I'm in."

* * *

Two weeks later, Parker and Hardison were helping unload Eliot's pick-up and setting up the campsite. Although the teamwork didn't last too long, since Eliot soon took over pitching the tent after he got frustrated with Hardison's attempts to use the tent poles to re-enact the light saber battles from _Star Wars_. Setting up camp was longer and way more boring than Parker had imagined, but soon they had a tent and a fire and it was starting to feel real to her.

"I'm hungry," announced Parker, looking at Eliot.

"Hardison, where's the food?" asked Eliot.

The hacker gestured over toward the picnic table, which held a case of orange soda and a crate of gummy frogs.

"Where's the cooler and the boxes of dry goods from Nate's pantry?" Eliot was just managing to keep the frustration out of his voice, but Parker reckoned they had about thirty seconds before the threats started flying.

"Dry goods. What, is Nate running a general store?" joked Hardison.

"Oooh, like Nellie Olson's dad in _Little House on the Prairie_," said Parker, bouncing on her heels. Some of her happiest times were spent getting lost in Walnut Grove.

Eliot looked disgusted. "No, there's no general store. Where's the cooler?"

Hardison looked around, squirming like a worm on a hook. "Um, why does everyone seem to feel it's my responsibility to know where this cooler is? You know what, you seem pretty attached to it. Why don't you know where it is?"

"I made up three lists, so we could share responsibility. Do you remember this?" asked Eliot.

"Maybe. Try refreshing my memory," replied Hardison with a noncommittal half-shrug.

Eliot's annoyed smile was definitely something Parker classified as a threat, even before he spoke any menacing words. "Oh, I'll refresh your memory all right."

Parker raised hand and waved it like an impatient teacher's pet. "I remember."

"Parker, okay, what was on your list?" asked Eliot with a sigh as he pressed his knuckles into his eyes.

"The tent, the drop cloth, the water purification tablets, and waterproof matches."

"Exactly. And Hardison, your list was all of the food and the rain gear."

"So if she had the tent and I had the food and rain gear, what was left on your list?"

Eliot reached into his wallet and pulled out a long list. He unfolded it and waved it angrily in the hacker's face. Parker was able to catch a few words: axe, hammer, frying pan, can opener.

"Yeah, you know what? I'm not remembering this list," said Hardison, edging away.

"You should. I gave it to you. It was on an orange sticky note....remember, last Wednesday when you were running surveillance for Nate on that ice cream factory?" asked Parker, hoping to jog his memory.

Hardison looked up to the sky and moved his head from side to side, like he was stepping through lines of code. "Wait, you mean that sticky note you handed me when I was trying to clean my keyboard?

"Yep, that was the one."

Hardison covered his face with his hands. "I'd just mentioned needing something to help with the keyboard and you said 'oh yeah, I forgot, I have something for you.' I thought you meant to help with the keyboard."

"So where's the list?" asked Eliot, his clenched jaw indicating that he was inches away from going postal.

"Uh, I threw it out," answered Hardison, his voice scarcely above a whisper.

"You did," agreed Parker cheerily. She was relieved that he'd remembered. It would be horrible if Hardison went senile.

"Wait a minute, let me get this straight. I give you the list," said Eliot, pointing at her. "You're supposed to give it to him so he can be responsible for making sure that stuff gets here, but instead, you just watch him throw it away?"

Parker nodded uncertainly, wondering why Eliot was always recapping the most obvious events. Wasn't that what Hardison just said had happened?

"There's something wrong with you. There's something wrong with both of you," growled Eliot, smoothing his hair back with a frustrated little tug.

"Eliot, man don't be that way, we'll figure something out. Be hunter gatherers or something," said Hardison.

"You mean I'll be hunting. Well, no, nu-huh, that's not what I signed up for. Besides, I don't like guns, Hardison, and didn't bring any. How do you expect me to catch anything?"

Hardison shrugged and then waved his arms around to indicate the construction of something. "You should make a trap, like a snare. For rabbits or something.

"Using exactly what as bait? Do I have to remind you that _someone_ forgot the food?"

Hardison cleared his throat, gave Eliot a pointed look and held up a bag of gummy frogs.

Parker looked between the two men and puffed out air up through her bangs. They could carry on like this for ages. Picking up a 20-oz water bottle, she decided to take walk and see if she could find a way to solve the problem.

* * *

Parker followed the path away from the campsite. It wound through tall maple and oak trees that just allowed a spattering of sunlight to reach the forest floor. She kept an eye on her watch and made sure to stay on the path, since she didn't want to get lost.

Soon she came to a creek, about five feet wide, with piles of rocks and rushing, burbling water. She could still hear the low grumble of Eliot's voice and Hardison's slightly higher-pitched, indignant tone, so she knew she wasn't too far from the campsite.

Parker felt weird in the clothes that Eliot had made her wear: rigid, heavy hiking boots, thick wool socks, loose tan pants made of a light-weight material, a yellow t-shirt, and a white button-down shirt. She felt so light and visible, like she could be seen from the space shuttle, even under the cover of the trees.

Eliot had insisted on the outfit, talking gravely about deer ticks and Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, Lyme disease and spirochetes. Parker stopped paying attention until Hardison had interrupted with a teasing remark about who he had to date learn about all of that and Eliot was forced to sheepishly admit to dating a forest ranger.

Parker sat down on a big rock next to the creek, taking a quick look around for ticks. When she didn't see any, she took off her shoes and socks, happy to be rid of the heavy, inflexible material. She didn't know how Eliot expected her to run with her feet encased in the equivalent of concrete blocks. Had it been anyone else, she'd have suspected an evil plan, but she trusted him to keep her safe.

After rolling her pants up to her knees, Parker stepped carefully into the water, giggling as it lapped around her ankles. She picked her way across mossy rocks and found a small quiet pool where the water came up to her mid-calf. Bits of sun played across the water and she decided she could get to like this whole camping thing, if the boys ever stopped arguing.

A flash of silver caught her eye and Parker was intrigued. She crouched down and was delighted to see tiny fish darting around. They moved fast and it was impossible to count, but she guessed there were at least 100 of them, smaller than goldfish and much more sparkly.

Parker laughed as she realized she'd just solved the dinner problem. She picked up the water bottle and emptied out a quarter of it. Then she reached down and tried to grab a handful of fish. They scattered like mercury, teasingly sliding between her fingers. She tried three more times, but the fish were slippery and fast.

Wrinkling her nose in concentration, she studied the pool intently for several minutes. A slow smile spread across her face as an idea took shape in her head. Parker set the water bottle down on ground next to the creek and rummaged through her pockets, eventually coming up with a bandana. She folded into a manageable square and then used it as a net, trawling the water and scooping up fish.

Parker laid the bandana on the ground and smiled down at the fish flopping on it. Using a thumb and forefinger, she delicately grasped a fish by the tail and then dropped it head-first into the water bottle. The fish swam fast, right into the side of the bottle, causing her to laugh.

"Your new home's a bit smaller than your old one, little fella. Sorry about that. It's only temporary." She kept her voice deliberately cheery, not wanting to let him in on the secret that his next home was going to be much darker and acidic, without much water at all.

Parker loaded her catch into the water bottle and then went fishing again, repeating the process several times until she had what she hoped would be enough fish for dinner.

* * *

Parker skipped back to the campsite, her step light even though she was wearing those stupid hiking books. When she arrived, Hardison and Eliot were still arguing, something about the hacker managing to remember the luxury items like the laptop and generator but not remembering the necessities.

"Bite your tongue man, a laptop is a necessity in this modern world. Were you not such a caveman, you'd get that. Anyway, why you gotta make things so complicated? One of us can just go to the store back at the entrance to the campgrounds."

"One of us? That would be you," said Eliot.

"No way, man, we do Rock/Paper/Scissors. It's only fair."

"Fair? I'l show you fair," grumbled Eliot ominously. "You're paying for this too, the crappy overpriced food you're going to be able to get there, because this is all your fault."

"Hey, you guys, stop fighting. I solved the problem," she said proudly, brandishing the water bottle. She held the it out to Eliot, who took it and looked at it in disbelief.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Fish, for dinner. You can cook them or something," said Parker, once again wondering why Eliot always required even the most obvious things explained to him. Maybe Hardison was right, maybe that boy had gotten punched in the head one too many times.

"Parker, these are minnows. The only thing they're good for is catching bigger fish," said Eliot.

"Good, let's do that then," replied Parker.

Eliot looked at Hardison like he was calling in backup and the hacker rubbed a finger over his lips before speaking. "Um, Parker, I think you need like fishing rods and reels, maybe a net or a boat or something."

"What do we really need?" asked Parker. "Hooks and lines? I have monofilament line in my gear bag."

"Seriously?" asked Eliot. "You brought your gear bag on a camping trip? Did you think you were going to have to rob a bank in the middle of the woods?"

"Hooks...hey, I have paper clips and a wire stripper in my laptop bag," said Hardison. "We can totally do this."

Eliot waved a hand. "I'm not even going to ask. Okay, look, fine. Hardison, Rock/Paper/Scissors, loser goes to the store, winner goes fishing at the lake with Parker."

Hardison indicated he was ready to go but Eliot held up a finger. He found an old envelope in his pocket and borrowed a pen from the laptop bag. A few minutes later, he set a lengthy shopping list on the picnic table and dropped his truck keys on top.

Parker watched as the two men squared up for the match. Eliot kept his eyes on Hardison's face. The first round was a tie, so Parker switched her focus to Hardison, looking hard to see whatever it was Eliot was looking for. Four rounds later, Eliot's rock smashed down on Hardison's sad little scissors.

"You're right. He does have a tell," said Parker.

"What, what tell? Can someone please let me know what this mysterious tell I allegedly have is all about? I don't even see how you can have a tell in Rock/Paper/Scissors," said Hardison as he picked up the keys and shopping list. Parker could still hear him muttering as he got in the truck and started it up.

"Yeah, well, you should listen to me more often," said Eliot, gruffly. "Now c'mon, Parker, tuck your pants in your socks like I told you. Lyme disease is no joke."

Parker rolled her eyes but still smiled. "It's okay, I looked for deer ticks and didn't see any."

Eliot softly repeated what she said and shook his head. "There's something wrong with you."

She impatiently shook the bottle of fish at him.

"Okay, okay, let's see if we can actually catch anything with your minnows."


End file.
